Found this today, It goes along with the “Texting Your Way to Love”. I’m really into these little cartoons, they make me feel better.

So yesterday was the fourth of July. I neglected to make plans(some-part in hopes that a dude would pop up in my life, but eh). So the only other person who didn’t have plans already was Lee.

I was cool with that, he’s a pretty cool dude and we’re buds. We wanted to light some stuff on fire. Sounds all good right? Well it didn’t work out that way.

We left my house on our bicycles to ride down to the fireworks at auditorium shores. We had a backpack full of beer and a blanket. It was super hot out so I decided to wear a skirt b/c the only shorts I own were wet from after my earlier swim workout.

Every thing’s fine, we’re just riding along then when we get to the bridge at I35, my front fork gets caught on Lee’s back Axel. (on his quick release) So I went down hard, over the bars, hit my tooth on the curb, and f-ed up my left wrist.

Now I am a pirate with half a right front tooth. And I hear it’ll be about 300 to get it fixed. Yuck. I’ll live, it just feels weird in my mouth (till I get it fixed.)

So, I guess when you do open up the gates the flood waters just come rushing in.

I had some pretty awesome experiences this past weekend/few days. Seems like I’ve been stuck in a holding pattern for a little while now, and this is just pay-backs. So I’m just saying thanks to the karma gods.

I don’t really buy into the whole idea of karma in the reincarnation sense, but in this life time, the paybacks business, yeah, I dig it.

This is also a realization for me in that sometimes good things happen when you’re not looking. It’s a lesson in humility in the simplest sense. It’s like all I have to do is it… and really I’m not even sure what it is. I’m glad I’m blogging about this today, because I’m sure there will be a day soon when I feel shitty. Life f-ing moves on. And if I can just stay afloat in taking care of my stuff, then hallelujah everything will work out.

Although there is also the benefit of being in that holding pattern for a little. Yes, it does lead to frustration, but in a much larger sense it’s given me the opportunity to bring some really important relationships with my friends into more clarity in my life.

So I guess I’m saying I’m happy to be frustrated sometimes, but right now, f-ing bring it on! In a metaphorical sense I think I did a good job of building my raft, so open up those flood gates!

I’ve been analoging (as Jen calls it, usually I just say writing in my notebook) lately, and I guess don’t really have anything new, just the same old same old. I had lunch/afternoon hang out time the other day with two of my girl-friends.

It’s been awhile since I’ve sat down and really had that gossip-y chit-chat session. Usually that doesn’t really happen unless I’m drunk, then it becomes me whining and bitching, but strangely enough not really feeling any better about the issues. (and often sending stupid text messages that I shouldn’t.)

It was cathartic for me. We spent about 4 and a half hours just talking it out. The thing is, now I feel strangely “talked out”. It was like a rinsing of all the built up gunk. I think it shook loose some stuff too. I like that, it’s a way to let some things go, making room for other things to get stuck to my head in the little nooks and crannies. (Great, more room for my crazy, that’s exactly what everyone needs.)

It was very stimulating for my gray matter. I guess I’m just saying thank god for girl-friends. Yeah, part of this whole taking control of my own happiness business is realizing that I have some pretty awesome girl-friends.

This isn’t supposed to turn into some mush/love fest, so I’ll just leave it at that. Thanks to all my girls, you know what you’ve done for me.

Is it so terrible that we have guilty pleasures? It’s the little things, right?
Well one of those little things that makes me feel better is cooking. The act of putting raw ingredients into another form and making a meal adds some semblance of normality to my life.

I think it’s something about knowing my way around the kitchen. I went to help a friend cater during south by and realized that it is the act of cooking that allows me to be in my element. I was hung over as fuck, super tired, but standing over that hot flat top for two hours really helped me feel better about all the external drama in my life.

I guess it’s the same when I go visit my parents. They have this amazing kitchen complete with a convection oven, and it’s like zen. It’s good to realize this stuff, it’s good to know everything’s ok.

I recently had a discussion with a friend about dating younger men.
She said we should just be Cougars, and be proud of it.
A Cougar, as I just recently learned, means a woman in her thirties or forties that prefers younger men, mostly just for sex. I saw it on Wikipedia so it must be true.

There is also a scientific name, Chronophilia, someone who likes having a disparate age difference between them and their partner. BTW, it’s not considered normal, unless the man is older, the woman younger… hmm… double standards, alive and well…

So I had no idea there was a name for this sort of thing. But I have consistently dated men younger than myself as long as I can remember. And I am not alone.

“Here’s to you, Mrs. Robinson. A 2003 survey conducted by the National Association of Retired Persons revealed that one-third of single women between 40 and 60 are dating younger men.”

And the older I get, to quote Dazed and Confused, the men just stay the same age. In fact, I think some of them are getting younger. I wondered why 19 and 20-something men were sending me messages on MySpace. Perhaps they are hunting for Cougars?

So why is this? I am not sure. Perhaps it is because the men my age are married with children, look old as hell, or are busy dating 20-something Twinkies with fake tits and no brains.

Every time I go out, I meet younger men. This is not a conscious effort on my part, I just hang out with younger folks, and go to clubs where most of the patrons are in their twenties.
Something else I notice, most 38-year-olds do not go out to clubs and drink on a regular basis. My friends and I do, but again, we are not the norm.

Another reason that I meet young guys is that I look very young. I am holding it down pretty darn well. The average guess of my age by strangers yields 26. I will take that. My last hookup was with a guy who was 28. He thought I was younger than he was until he figured it out by when I graduated college. I need to keep quiet about that, but I graduated in 8 years, so telling folks the date still makes me 5 years younger.

So I thought it was no big deal, until the age difference really hit me when we realized we both were going to our high school reunions that month, his was his 10th, mine my 20th.
I am finally old enough to date someone 10 years younger who is not in high school… wow.

The last few guys I have met casually who seemed interested until they found out my age and fled have been 27, 25, and 30.. so at least I am consistant. But some do not go away when I tell them, which is always a mystery to me.

So perhaps it’s genetic? My Grandmother, who I look a lot like, had been with my Grandfather who was 16 years her senior. After he died, she found a younger model, my Step-grandfather, who was 15 years younger. He was nice looking too, and till the day he died he dressed to the nines and had widows swooning over him trying to bring him baked goods…

So in conclusion, I swear it is not me. I do not seek out younger men on purpose. In fact, when I did online dating, I tried to go out with older men, 40-42. I found that they are no more mature and responsible, and definitely not as fit… you cannot beat 26-year old abs, the 40-somethings just can’t complete. Perhaps that is the biggest reason after all, I am a sucker for a six-pack…

This is from Monday the 29th on my myspace blog:

Ok I guess today is a P day. I don’t really know what that means though. Those are just a few things that kinda popped into my head this afternoon while I was making mayonaise products at work.

Why is patience a virtue? What is so good about it anyhow? Ever heard the saying “the early bird gets the worm”? And really, I have none. I am probably one of the most impatient you will ever meet. As you know I broke up with someone recently, and I’m starting to think it was because I wasn’t patient enough with him. I’m definetly not going to put this all on me, I know it take two people to make a relationship fail, but maybe I should be taking more of the blame/responsibilty for the demise of this particular relationship. Maybe if I forced myself to wait a little longer before getting angry he would have come through and we could have communicated better.

You know though, looking back on it, I’m not sure being with him was the right decision to begin with. Not that he’s a bad person or anything, but we were just so completly un-matched. (Is that a word?) And I do admit that having some differences is good, but when there are no hobbies/passions that two people share I think it gets hard to agree on activities. I really do want to be with someone who isn’t exactly like me, but sharing one or two things would really also be nice.

My relationship ended and I’ve been a little emotionally charged, so to speak, for a few months now. But I guess when I got a little drunk and sort of had it out with him, it provided me some much needed closure.

Ok whatever, that’s mostly irrevelent now anyways. On to pantry challenges. Last night I downloaded the show “Top Chef”. I find it particularly funny because that’s kinda what I do too. So my mom got into watching this show when I first got out of culinary school because she wanted to understand what I do better. Ha. Well anyhow it’s become one of the obligatory points of discussion when we speak on the telephone. So I found out that I can download the show to my ipod, yes! I don’t have cable and really don’t wanna splurge on something I would only watch one night a week anyhow.

So last night I stayed in and had a marathon (of sorts) of the first two episodes of the second season. And one of the quickfire challenges was a pantry challenge of sorts. I love pantry challenges, that’s pretty much how I eat when I’m home. It’s especially fun when I’m at work, cause you know they have two huge walk-ins full of stuff for me to play with. Pantry challenge is self explanatory, use what’s on hand, sometimes with the twist of having to use spesfic ingredients(i.e. before they go bad).

The particular one last night included of all things: escargot (mmm yum), american cheese(ick), peanuts, a potato, and I think two other things I forgot. It was pretty fun. And it definetly made me start thinking about having my own pantry challenge. Mostly as a way to utalize ingredients in different and more creative ways. It’s really nice when I read something or see something that really makes me think about food the way I did before it was just a job.

Don’t get me wrong, cooking for a living is definetly interesting and fun, but to some extent the work is so hard that the pay isn’t really ever going to be worth it. Well not until you get to the top or are people like Tyson Cole.

I think there’s been a lot of glamorization of cooking in the past few years. With all the tv shows, and this new culture of american foodies, everyone wants to cook in a restaurant. It’s mostly not that fun. I mean sure there are days when it’s exciting, but for the most part you make the same stuff over and over again. That’s what I’m having a problem with. And I know, I know everyone says you have to pay your dues before you can do anything awesome in food. But paying dues is also a way to weed out a lot of people who don’t have the motivation to truly succeed. Maybe this is just a way that I’m getting weeded out. Not that I really want to stop cooking ever, but there is something about being able to see your family on holidays, go out for a drink with friends occasionally, or even take care of my own dog that makes me want to find a better compromise. To do the things with food that I would ultimately like to do I would have to sacrafice most, if not all of the things I think are important to me right now, and I’m just not willing to do that.

It doesn’t mean I can’t still work on being creative with food, having my own pantry challenges if you will. And that’s what I think I’m going to start doing more of. I really do enjoy that, maybe I’ll have pantry challenge night at my house once a week and work on something until I can get it right. I can cook at my own house and blast my own music, cause really the music that everyone listens to at work really drives me nuts, I mean c’mon, do we have to hear the same ACDC cd like four times in a row. And the worst part is that when I go to change the music, or even just put on NPR, everyone groans.

Serisouly, if i had my way we would work ourselfs through the entire pixies catalog. They are the best band of the past 30 years, I may even go so far as to say they are also the most influential band of the past 30 years. I’m working on a CD for a friend of mine, and I’m having such a hard time figuring out which songs should go on it, there are so many great pixies tunes that deserve to be on it. You know, I’m not totally sure he has any of their music, so maybe I’ll just put all the best known songs, you know the ones you’re reconize from movies and stuff. I think most of that stuff is a little easier to digest than some of their more esoteric stuff.

Wow, it’s 5. I need to eat before I go to karate class.

-Scarfy

It’s nearing the time to say goodbye to my Toyota Corolla. It’s not exactly on its death bed. I just have issues with the fact that the next repair will cost almost as much as its blue book value.

So what am I looking at? I want a hatchback. My ex used to tease me about the hatchback thing but that’s not going to stop me. I want it and I will have it.

The contenders (in no particular order):

• Mazda 3
• Volkswagon Golf GL
• Toyota Matrix (hatchback that is based on the car I have the longest history with, the Corolla)
• Scion XB (aka the toaster on wheels)

Yesterday I took advantage of comp time and went to look at the VW Golf. Meg’s boyfriend has one (the turbodiesel version) so I have already climbed inside it and noted its roominess and standard features. I was taking a chance by stopping in a car dealership on the last day of the month. I was also performing a social experiment to see how a black female wearing a “Vote for Pedro” t-shirt and jeans would be treated. The VW guy was really nice. I told him that I wanted to test drive the golf. He asked for a copy of my driver’s license and my insurance card and handed me the keys. He gave me a brief run through of the controls once I was inside the car and told me to take it out to Spicewood Springs Road so I could really see how it handled. He said that I should take atleast 15-20 minutes to get a feel for the car. Holy Crap, I expected him to be riding with me clutching the dash and selling the car for the entire ride. WOO HOO! FREEDOM! I have to say that it was a nice ride. The drawback was that the view out the rear window was obscured by the 3 headrests on the back seat (those would have to go).

When I got back to the dealership the sales guy asked if I was interested and I said yes. He took the time to give me a quote at the current interest rate and to appraise my car for trade. He got bonus points for that. He warned me that they were down to 2 Golfs on the lot right now. I told him that I would keep in touch. I had a few more cars to test drive.

The next stop was the Toyota/Scion dealership. I went in and asked to drive the Matrix. They didn’t have one available so I asked if I could check out the Scion XB. The sales dude said that he would get a member of the Scion team to assist me. In the meantime was I interested in perhaps the Corolla or the Camry (what part of “I want a hatchback” do you not understand). I said no. The Scion dude was eager to get me into the XB. Unfortunately someone had taken it out for a drive. I was told that they would be right back. After several games of solitare on my palm pilot I was told that the XB was last known to be heading out to Westlake and they weren’t sure when it would be back. I told them that I would call before I came next time and headed out the door.

By this point in time I realized that the traffic had increased and I was tired. I decided that I would head out to the Mazda dealership anyway. The lot was full of Mazda 3′s. Was this a good sign or a bad one? I told the sales guy that I wanted to drive the Mazda 3 hatchback. He said he’d get the keys. He didn’t ask for my insurance or driver’s license so I guessed that I wouldn’t be riding solo. The inside of the Mazda 3 had enough controls to launch a space shuttle. A wee bit intimidating. I took it down 2222 down to the County Line. It was a really nice ride. The Mazda guy wasn’t selling the whole time but I could tell that he felt he was wasting his time. Who was I but a black girl in jeans and a “Vote for Pedro” t-shirt. Anyways, he said that he’d show me a video of the safety ratings and specs once we got back to the dealership. I was not impressed with the service. This is something that is available on the Mazda website. He gave me his card after I told him that I had a few more cars to test drive.

Stay tuned for part 2…

Hi. I’m fat. Not Martha Dump truck/BIG FUN fat. But I’ve hit a deuce. For those of you that do not know, that means that I am, or was when I weighed myself last week, 200 pounds. I can’t really say anything to defend myself. I was eating like a maniac. I’m sure I consumed a good 7,000 calories a day for a little bit. I even drank those Hershey’s milkshakes that have barely any milk and are rancid even if you shake them. I was eating ice cream by the pint, peanut butter by the jarful, double servings of everything. I was amazingly riveted to the contents of the refrigerator. But I would like to announce that I have things under control.

Under control you say?

How can you be under control when you are 200 pounds– a good FIFTY pounds heavier than the summer of 2003?

Well, for one thing Maury hasn’t come to cut the wall of my house off so that they (they being a team of twenty and a fork lift operator) can hoist my beyond rubenesque behind into the XXXXXL Ambulance and off to the hospital where they will shrink my stomach down to the size of a thumb.
Nope, no Maury here.
In the last week I have lost five pounds, which is a good start. I have changed my eating habits and no longer snack on candy at work. Well, a couple sugar free hard candies don’t hurt anybody. I’m working out…doing Yoga and growing my tree etc, lifting weights blah de blah. I was glad to see it was paying off. So that’s what is going on with me. I’m fat. I’m working on it.

~end

I was looking for a good picture to post to portray what this site means (no it isn’t ALL about hot women wearing little skirts). I couldn’t think of anything better than to use a picture from a photo shoot from Matt’s Birthday Calendar. This was one of my best plans ever.

The details: The year was 2002. A group of friends got together and decided that while it was fun to torment a boy every now and then, it would be more fun to torment him 365 days a year (Matt, in a drunken ramble, informed us of all the things a women could wear that would turn him on. Bad idea.). That is how the calendar was born. In the next 2 months we came up with the design, scouted locations and took the photos. No one was naked, they were merely suggestive photos (very much like the ones that Gil Elvren composed). The calendar was delivered to Matt on his birthday and he has treasured it ever since.

I was September. The original plan was to have each girl pose for her birthday month but somehow that fell through (I think that January went to Carol pulled of the ski bunny look way better than I could). Luckily I had the school girl skirt and legs that went all the way up. The picure was taken in the Geology building on UT campus. I darted in to an unused classroom around 7:30ish with my trusty photographer and my best friend. The shot took 15 minutes. Sometimes I amaze myself.

Ironically, Matt’s birthday approaches once again. Last year Megan and I took him to our Cardio Striptease class and had every girl there give him a lap dance (he then invited all of the girls to his birthday party). This year I have no clue what the plan is. It will be something FUN and EXCITING though.